


Here

by themantlingdark



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Post-Canon Fix-It, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:41:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28303242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themantlingdark/pseuds/themantlingdark
Summary: Loki makes it home. Soft domestic fluff.
Relationships: Loki/Thor (Marvel)
Kudos: 122





	Here

The baskets of eggs Thor had set on the table at the end of his driveway yesterday were empty again. The hens were laying more every day, and Thor was setting the increase out for his neighbors, but there were never leftovers. Folks stopped by in the evenings to collect any extras. Those skilled in baking were regularly making the richer breads that had once been reserved for special occasions. Often, an elaborately braided loaf wrapped in a colorful kitchen towel would find its way to Thor’s doorstep some time before dawn. He was in the habit of checking the threshold now before stepping out, lest he punt a gift into the street.

Though early, it was later than it looked. The nights had drawn themselves up to their full height, throwing three quarters of the day into darkness. December rendered Norway a near-constant gloaming. It felt to Thor like a message from his father: a twilight place for a twilight people. But summer would come and turn it all on its head—his mother’s rejoinder. June’s light would be bright enough to read by for the bulk of the day. 

The winter’s darkness had its charm. Midgard’s strange arrangement of stars had quickly become familiar. Night engendered a sense of privacy that Asgard’s people appreciated as they put themselves back together, and it fostered the deep, unbroken sleep that speeded healing.

Now the stars were bright and clear, barely flickering in the frigid air. Only Thor’s breath veiled them, slowly rising from his nose in long streams, frosting his eyebrows as he made his way back to the chicken coop.

Inside, he filled the hens’ bowls and watched them at their breakfast. They always got some kitchen scraps, but ate with the same zeal regardless of what those might be. 

Behind a tall wooden fence, a small lightning rod attracted a constant stream of electricity from a tiny storm set there by Thor. It was wired into the lights of the greenhouse, lengthening the hours of light the plants would receive. Thor credited the lights with the success of his growing, but his neighbors had been using lights and greenhouses for years with nothing like Thor’s luck. 

The air in the greenhouse was damp and earthy, like having your nose pressed into a lush tuft of grass. It always felt like a balm to Thor’s throat after the cold salty air that came in off the winter sea.

He was crushing a strawberry--which should not have been fruiting--against the roof of his mouth when he saw a streak of orange fire sail past overhead, bright despite the artificial light within and the steam on the panes of glass that roofed the greenhouse.

A split second later, he felt the ground shake. The impact of the meteorite, most likely, if that’s what it was. Whatever it was, it was close. He ran out the door, armor swirling over him and axe leaping to his hand before he swung himself high into the air, scanning for signs of an impact.

He found downed pines and dust not far from the edge of the forest.

The crater was small, and what lay within it was not a ragged hunk of rock or iron, but a slim blue figure.

Shreds of clothing that had burnt to cinders slowly flaked away as the body coughed and spat, sending bits of stone and earth onto the tops of Thor’s boots.

“Landing needs work, but how’s that for aim?” Loki rasped, and Thor fell to his knees. 

“You-” Thor began, and the world dissolved into a watery blur. 

“Stink,” Loki finished, and feebly fanned the air in front of his face, then pulled a strand of his hair under his nose and groaned in disgust. Space smelled like sulfur, seared meat, and arc welding, and he had thoroughly absorbed its scent.

“You’re-”

“Here,” Loki offered, and saw Thor double over and sob into the freshly turned dirt. Loki sighed. “After everything we’d been through, you fell for it again.” 

Not a question. 

Thor nodded. 

“I even thought you might, which is why I explicitly told you you’d see me again.”

Thor wept harder.

Loki felt too hot. Midgardian winter was warmer than the vacuum of space. 

When Thor looked up, his brother’s skin was pale pink beneath the streaks of dirt and ash that wreathed it.

“In fairness, I _was_ dead for about five years, but you can hardly blame me for-”

The sharp cry that left Thor’s throat sounded so like those that came from injury Loki was stunned into silence. He watched the steam from Thor’s sobs float up into the trees in jagged bursts for many minutes.

“Come here,” Loki said, when the tears had somewhat subsided and the rising breaths once again came in distinct clouds.

Thor sniffled and heaved himself up onto all fours before crawling unsteadily forward to collapse at Loki’s side. 

“Bit out of practice with gravity,” Loki winced, as he struggled to roll toward his brother.

Thor helped him over and leaned their foreheads together, then drew his cape around Loki like a blanket and let out a shaky breath.

“You’re here,” Thor breathed, and Loki could only gust warm laughter out onto Thor’s lips and nod against him. 

They lay there breathing until the sky grew light, showing a rich amethyst above the trees where before it had been inky.

Thor picked the pine needles and splintered branches from his brother’s hair, then climbed to his feet and hauled Loki up. Loki swayed, but Thor caught him before he fell and held him tight.

“Can you actually walk?”

“If I had to guess, I’d say no.”

“Conserving energy?” Thor asked, and dipped his head toward Loki’s chest, which was narrower now and sported soft breasts.

Loki hummed and nodded. Thor looped his cape under Loki’s right arm and tied two adjacent corners together over his left shoulder to make a simple cloak.

“It’s the more efficient form.” 

“It is,” Thor nodded, knowing full well a tardigrade would have been more efficient still, but that there was no chance his brother would willingly show up at his door looking like a moss piglet.

“Slower metabolism. Smaller. Needs fewer calories.”

“Mmhm,” Thor agreed, and sent his armor away so there’d be nothing harsh pressing against his brother’s skin.

“And I’ll recover faster like this.”

“You will.” Thor scooped Loki up in his arms. He called a brief bit of rain to quash any risk of fire in the woods behind them and set off down the hill with Loki’s shins bouncing beyond the crook of his left elbow.

“No man ever made it through the Valkyries’ training.”

“I know.”

“And Sif is the goddess of-”

“I’m not disagreeing with you,” Thor said.

Loki felt Thor’s ribs shaking against his side with a badly smothered giggle.

“Can you believe we know a Valkyrie now?” Loki whispered.

“No,” Thor grinned.

“Is she here?”

“She’s our king.”

Thor felt a thrill shoot through his brother. 

“Does she have a queen?” 

“Not yet. Are you angling for the position?”

“Do you think she’d have me?” Loki asked, and drummed his breasts with a showy flutter of long fingers.

“Nope,” Thor said, and set them both laughing. 

The soft scents of earth, moss, and spruce faded to stone and salt, and the wind off the sea was sharp without the trees to blunt it. The water looked like a field of slate in the low morning light.

Brunnhilde was waiting by the road with sword and armor, watching them. Thor saw her roll her eyes and realized Loki was weakly but enthusiastically waving at her.

“Where the hell have you been?” 

“Space, dead, and space again… or _still_.”

She narrowed her eyes and leaned over him where he was still casually cradled in Thor’s arms. “And who brought you _here_?” 

Thor watched his brother’s eyes widen into a smitten stare while his cheeks performed their entire repertoire of pinks and his lips parted around words he had forgotten how to say. He gave Loki a light shake.

“I did,” Loki remembered.

“How?”

The Casket of Ancient Winters appeared in Loki’s hands. 

He opened it into Thor’s face. 

Thor yelped a high, breathless “arseworm” that was nearly lost amid the blast of snow while Brunnhilde ducked her head to hide her laughter.

“I know it doesn’t look like much in the interstellar propulsion department,” Loki admitted, as he sent the Casket away and began to pick the icicles off of Thor’s beard, “but, when there’s no resistance, it builds to something quite impressive.” Thor was aiming a well-practiced scowl at Loki, who was pointedly directing his own gaze elsewhere. “Got me to the nearest branch of Bifrost and let me steer my way here.”

“Right. Lovely,” she sighed. “I’m going fishing. You two himbos need anything?”

“Buckets of shampoo,” Thor said. Loki elbowed him and loosed a huffy “hey” under his breath.

“The both of you,” she agreed, and Loki spun his head in time to catch Thor’s scandalized glare. 

Loki was still cackling as Brunnhilde walked back into town, calling over her shoulder that she’d have a few things sent along for them.

The weight in Thor’s arms was easier to carry than he would have liked, but Loki looked good.

“Is any of this a glamour?” Thor asked. 

“No.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“You’ve been traveling for two years.” 

“Two very long years,” Loki nodded.

It pleased Thor that, though Loki could appear as anything he wished, he was still recognizably himself. He had the sense, even if it was only vanity, to be satisfied with his own face. “You look well.”

“So do you,” Loki murmured, and dropped his head against Thor’s breast. He felt Thor draw a deep breath and let it out again.

“I look-”

“Delicious,” Loki cut in.

“I used to be-”

“A walking vivisection? Yes, you did. This is much better.” Loki felt Thor huff as much as he heard it, but then another puff of air followed so close on the heels of the first Loki caught the laugh. “You were all stacked slabs of muscle and bulging blood vessels,” Loki tutted, and gave a small shudder. “There’s only one place a body should have that many visible veins.”

“The backs of the hands,” Thor said, with a slow nod and a soft smile, playing dumb so perfectly that Loki wondered how many people had been duped by his brother.

They held out for all of three seconds before their bellies started shaking with their laughter. 

  
  


There was a swaddled loaf of bread waiting in a basket on the front porch when they got back.

“Can you grab that?” Thor asked, and sank into a deep squat to let Loki reach it. 

The loaf was half gone by the time they made it to the kitchen.

“Cozy place,” Loki said. He saw knotty pine walls and a wood-burning stove. Oak floors that were kept warm by shaggy wool rugs. And a long deep sofa, perfect for napping, that ran most of the length of the main inner wall.

“Small, you mean.” 

“Everything’s small on Midgard. I mean cozy. Soft. Safe. Homey.”

Thor set Loki in a seat at the table and gave him a glass of water, which disappeared in an unbroken series of enormous gulps that trickled from the corners of his mouth and darkened Thor’s cape where it was still draped across his chest. Thor refilled the cup and the process was repeated three more times before Loki leaned back in his seat and let out a loud, sated breath. “What would you like to eat?”

“Bath first.” 

“Food first.”

“Bath. I’m already eating this loaf of bread.”

“Loki-”

“It’s practically a meal. I taste at least three eggs in it. And butter. Besides, the way I smell is spoiling my appetite.”

“Doesn’t seem to be slowing you down with that bread.”

“Nothing could. It’s fresh. You know how I feel about bread.”

“The same way I do.” Thor sighed. He unbuttoned his cuffs so he could roll up his sleeves. “All right then, I’ll draw you a bath. Think you can keep from tipping over while I’m away?”

“Umm…” Loki planted his elbows on the tabletop and took a bite of the loaf of bread like it was a sandwich. He nodded.

Thor’s forearms were still dripping wet when he came back. To Loki, it looked like what should be meant by the word “wealth.” Like the only possible equivalent of platinum. Warm skin, strength, water, and aid that wanted nothing in return.

“All right if I take this off now so I can set you straight into the tub?” Thor asked, pointing to where his cape was still tied at Loki’s shoulder.

Loki nodded and dropped a kiss onto his brother's knuckles as they worked the knot.

In the bathroom, Loki expected to be met with the slick, unyielding bowl of a porcelain tub, but Thor had lined it with linen sheets before he’d filled it, and a folded towel was waiting to receive his backside when it reached the bottom. 

With the water helping to bear the weight of his limbs, Loki could move them better, and he managed to catch his brother by the wrist before he fully drew back.

“What do you need?” Thor whispered, and leaned close enough that Loki could see each new crease that worry had etched into his favorite face.

He kissed Thor’s palm. “Have the last two years been any kinder than the five that came before?”

“Aye, but they could hardly help it. There was so little left for them to take from me.”

When Loki raised his hand to Thor’s cheek, Thor leaned into it and smiled and covered it with his own, then held it in place as he turned his head to press a kiss to Loki’s palm.

Thor lathered Loki’s hair until the water grew cool, then rinsed it clear and drained the bath. Though his bare hands would have worked just as well, if not better, Thor knew they’d steal every lingering shred of Loki’s privacy. Instead, he soaped a flannel and carefully scrubbed his brother’s skin until it was clean and blushing. 

“Soak again while I make some breakfast?” Thor asked. “Or a quick rinse and a nap?”

“Quick rinse and a nap, I think.” 

When they were done in the bath, Thor wrapped his brother up in an enormous towel and carried him off to the bedroom, where he kneaded a thick balm into Loki’s knees and elbows and brushed a light cream over his back and limbs. He turned a soft old t-shirt inside out to aim the seams away and helped his brother into that before adding fluffy flannel bottoms and fuzzy socks.

“Sofa, please, if I may,” Loki said, when Thor reached to turn down the bed.

“Of course.”

In the living room, Thor propped his brother up with pillows and buried him in blankets, then left him to his rest.

Loki could hear and see the kitchen from the couch. He watched his brother sway through the familiar motions of kneading dough for bread. There was always a lovely promise in that. A commitment. There would be a first rise, which was never an entirely predictable affair and couldn’t be allowed to go on too long, so one had to stick around and watch. Then came a shaping and a second rise while the oven warmed up. Then the baking itself. It all meant Thor would be puttering about in the kitchen for hours. The knowledge sent Loki to sleep.

Loki woke to the squeak of the oven door. He craned his neck to watch as Thor reached in, grabbed the loaf of bread barehanded, and tapped its bottom with one fingertip. There was a hollow sound and an approving hum. The scent from the kitchen made its way to the couch and Loki moaned.

“Smells perfect.”

“It’ll do,” Thor said, smiling over at him and setting the bread on a rack to rest.

He brought over a mug of cream and chocolate and held it to Loki’s lips until it was gone.

“I have to go feed the girls and do a bit of work,” Thor said. He saw the color drain from his brother’s face as the muscles around Loki’s eyes went slack. “Mind if I put a shield around us while I’m out?”

“Not at all,” Loki murmured. “I’m hardly in a state to defend myself.”

Thor nodded. “Need anything before I go?”

Loki shook his head no.

Thor took his axe from the corner before he went through the back door. A moment later, Loki heard the low hum that meant he was now cocooned in Thor’s protective bubble.

After an hour, Thor returned with a small dish of eggs and a large bowl of berries. The latter he rinsed and brought over to the sofa. Loki’s face was still blank, but his lips popped open for the fruit offered by Thor’s fingers. 

“When you’re feeling up to it, maybe we could practice walking in the greenhouse.” 

Loki gave a single expressionless nod.

Thor grabbed his phone and tipped it sideways to play a video. 

It showed him going through the door of a low wooden cabin. Once within, he was swarmed by birds.

“I know they look nice enough, but they’re unrepentant assholes. They all fight for food, even though there’s no need. But they can hold their own against each other, so I let them be.”

At the other end of the room was a second door. Thor passed through it into a sprawling greenhouse that was so lush Loki would have sworn the chicken coop was a portal to Alfheim. Blooms, fruit, and greenery stretched as far as the eye could see. Two hens came barreling straight for Thor’s camera and disappeared at either side of it. The view flipped a hundred and eighty degrees to show Thor, smiling, with a bird on each shoulder.

“Rita and Lucy,” Thor explained. “My girls.”

“I see the resemblance,” Loki said, smiling now with wet eyes. “Short legs. Long backs. Heaving bosoms. And that’s exactly how you walk.”

Thor nudged him and grinned. “They’re small and skittish and the other birds were being awful to them, so I gave them the run of the greenhouse. They eat the grubs and beetles for me… and quite a few of the blueberries, when they think I’m not looking.”

Loki’s eyes were still shining. His face was bright and firm again.

“Did you think I was a divorced father of two?” Thor whispered.

“I thought three.”

Thor snorted and tossed a strawberry at his brother’s face. Loki caught it between his teeth.

“Should we see how that bread turned out?” Thor asked, and Loki hissed a yes and tried to squirm his way free from the blankets.

The bread, Loki could still manage on his own, though Thor had to slice and butter it for him. The fried eggs, however, required a fork and fine motor skills, and Thor had to feed him like a baby. It should have been embarrassing, but they sat side by side, and in between the bites he fed to his brother, Thor had his own plate to focus on, so Loki didn’t feel as if Thor was stuck watching and waiting for him.

They were stretched out on the couch together, dozing in front of the wood-burning stove, when a rhythmic buzzing woke them.

“Shit, I left the field up,” Thor muttered, and carefully extricated himself from their nest.

Loki watched his brother dart to the corner for his axe to recall the ward before he made for the door.

“Sorry. Just… feeling cautious.”

“Can’t say I blame you,” Brunnhilde said, eyeing the helpless bundle on the sofa.

Loki was too weighed down by blankets to do more than dip his head with his hello.

“And who’s that behind you?” Loki called, and craned his neck to see. There were full skirts swaying behind Brunnhilde’s legs. 

Liv side-stepped into view and a delighted cry left Loki’s throat.

“You’re here!”

“Aye,” she laughed, and hurried over.

“I didn’t see you on the ship and I didn’t dare let myself hope,” Loki said.

Liv helped him free his arms from the blankets so he could fling them around her. 

“She’s known us since we were babies,” Thor explained.

"Then she has my deepest sympathies,” Brunnhilde smiled. She handed Thor one basket and set another on the coffee table next to Liv.

The latter had silks for Loki to wear; oils, creams, and ointments for his skin; and jars of herbs for him to steep and drink. 

Thor’s basket had smoked meats, nuts, cheeses, and a fish so fresh Loki could tell by the clarity of its eyes that its flesh would taste like buttered melon.

“Thor, you have to fry that up right now,” Loki urged.

Brunnhilde smirked and gave Thor a shove in the direction of the kitchen. “You heard the man.”

“Thank you,” Thor said, with a bow and a grin that would have made Loki jealous if he hadn’t still been staring at the fish. 

“Text me if you need anything. I mean it,” she said, glaring slightly, then turned for the door and left Thor to it.

He put more fuel on the fire and cracked the windows so they wouldn’t have to smell supper’s fish again at breakfast.

By the time Thor had cleaned, cut, and cooked their dinner, Liv was done examining Loki and was helping him into the silks she’d brought.

“How is he?” Thor asked.

“Remarkably well,” she replied, and Loki widened his eyes and stuck his tongue out at Thor while Liv wasn’t looking. “But weak,” she went on. Loki scowled. “Let him rest another day or two, then start dragging him outside for fresh air and exercise.” Loki huffed, but puckered and smacked his lips until Liv laughed and leaned in to kiss him. He fell back against the pillows with a wide, gloating grin.

“Thank you,” Thor smiled, and offered Liv his arm as he walked her to the door.

Loki was right: buttered melon that melted on his tongue. Watching the meat break into soft flakes around the fork was almost too pretty to take. It wasn’t until they were finished that he realized Thor had eaten one bite at the beginning to test the seasoning and then fed him the rest of the fish.

Their plan to rest on the couch got away from them and they woke so late the hour had rounded the corner into early. 

Thor went off to feed the hens and found Loki still lying awake when he returned.

“Not sleepy?”

“Exhausted. Just out of practice. Nervous, actually,” Loki admitted. “For the last two years, falling asleep was my biggest fear.” Thor sat at Loki’s hip and took his hand. “Thought the Casket would slip from my fingers in my sleep. If I ever needed to change course without it, I’d have to burn my clothes for fuel. See where that got me. If that wasn’t enough, I’d have to burn my hair. Then my nails. My teeth.”

Thor made a small, choked sound at the last word, like he’d been hit high in the belly. “If I’d known you were alive, I swear I would have come for you--I’m so sor—”

“Shhh. I know. I know it, Thor, believe me. I watched you for five years. I know.”

Thor’s face paled and his mouth hung open.

“Which reminds me,” Loki murmured. “Come here.”

It took a moment, but Thor finally leaned over.

Loki kissed him on each cheek. “Mother sends her love.”

Thor hid his face in the pillow behind his brother’s right ear. Loki managed to get his left arm thrown up over Thor’s ribs to rub his back until his wet, stuttering breaths had dried and evened.

“How can you bear to be here after Valhalla?” Thor whispered.

“I know this sounds odd, but it’s gotten much easier.”

Loki’s face was a soft, open smile. The centers of his eyebrows were raised in that subtle way that spoke of a welcome, wished-for surprise. Thor stared for a moment, then nodded. 

“Is there anything I can do to make sleeping easier?”

“You already do.”

“What is it?”

“You,” Loki laughed.

“Oh.” Thor grinned and ducked his head when his cheeks got warm. “Shall we settle back in here and sleep for a while then?”

“We could,” Loki said, in a tone that suggested there were other, better options.

“Or,” Thor tried.

“Or we could sleep in a bed. Conventional, I know.”

“Mm.”

“More spacious, though.” 

Thor nodded and scooped Loki up. 

“And the oil that Liv brought for my skin would ruin your sofa.” Loki’s voice was the schooled pragmatic indifference that always meant mischief.

“Do you suppose I’d mind terribly?”

“No, not terribly. Probably not at all, knowing you. Brute.”

Thor’s laugh was rich and deep with that hint of wickedness that always gave Loki gooseflesh.

**Author's Note:**

> There are 1500 words of after-the-cut smut that may or may not ever get done. My time is still not really mine, and my brain is still completely scattered. Also, idgaf if it's not true-to-canon. Life is too short to research that shit.


End file.
